January 25.1

comments 7
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A blizzard
in New York,
but here
it’s sixty-four
in January,
like never before.

The warm air
smells, tens
of neighbors
wash their cars,
and something
is blooming
against better
judgement.

Failed winter,
alright,
this is a door
straight to July,
a reminder
of how a heart
can feel,
still,
after dormancy
that at first
I thought was
self-imposed

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7 Comments

  1. “Something is blooming against better judgement…” Wow. Loved this. The wording in this poem is simple and beautiful, but sometimes less really is so much more 😊 As I read this, I genuinely felt uplifted and I think you did an excellent job of conveying a sense of waking after dormancy. Lovely writing! 😊

    Like

  2. hollydpoet says

    Just lovely! Heart-talk is core, and dormant I think is okay for awhile. Like self-preservation.

    Like

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